


#33 The Bond

by shineexofest



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineexofest/pseuds/shineexofest
Summary: Prompt #33: Jongin discovers that the stray he recently adopted is more than just another dog and becomes more than just another friend.





	#33 The Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the patient mods for bearing with me. I had so much more planned for this, but it just wouldn't become words. I love this prompt, and I want to keep working it, but I hope this bit I've submitted is enjoyed in the meantime. (And, to be perfectly honest, this title came from the episode of the show I was watching at the time. Kind of fits, though.)

Jongin hands over the patterned leash and pats the last patient, a Doberman, on the head, seeing the client out the front door of the clinic with a wave and a smile that falls with his heavy sigh as he returns to the air conditioning waiting room. It's dark out, sunset long past. The clinic is usually closed before dusk.

"That the dog who ate the sofa?" Amber, the receptionist, asks. She talks while she types, multi-tasking with practiced precision.

"Yep." When Amber fielded a call from a frantic woman who had returned home from work to a lethargic, vomiting dog and partly-devoured sofa, Jongin knew it was going to be a long night. "Full moon, like my mom would say. I thought that first surgery would be the weirdest thing in a while—because, honestly, that dog ate over forty socks, and none of them matched; that's a lot of socks—plus the doc's pants fell down."

Amber stops typing, spinning her chair to face Jongin at the wall of alphabetized file folders. "What? No way! I didn't hear that!" Sometimes, she hates working the front desk. All the real action happens in the back rooms. She does get to greet all the pets, though, and is a big reason behind the clinic needing to order so many treats.

"Doc's pants weren't tied properly or something, and she was all scrubbed in, so Sunyoung had to fix them. I feel bad for being there, but it's not like I knew."

"Could've been karma, then, with that hit-and-run Lab." Amber checks the time over the doorway. "Your scrubs should be dry by now, right?" When the Labrador was brought in, Jongin took him, and they prepped for surgery right away. His scrubs, the only set he had on hand, got soaked with the dog's blood. The client went home and returned after a shower and change of clothes, but Jongin couldn't do that and rejected the suggestion that he wash his scrubs and just wear a towel. Thankfully, one of the doctors wears a size similar to his.

"I'll take care of the laundry and then head out." Doctors are always the first to leave. Jongin's still a student, and he's tired, but he will take any overtime pay he can. He has nine dogs at home—affectionately known at the clinic as the _Kim Pack_ —as well as a cat, adopted by one of his dogs on a walk. He wants the best for them and works hard to provide it. It was hard enough with just his initial three dogs, but when faced with a stray, he can't say no. The clinic helps with discounted services to employees, but even his coworkers are starting to hint that he should surrender some of his pack—his kids—to a shelter. They're his family; he thought they'd understand.

"You got a new dog recently, right? How's he adjusting?" Amber shuts down the computer and makes her rounds through the offices, shutting off the other computers. "He's sweet, so I hope he's doing good with the rest of the pack."

"He's good. Kind of shy, but it's only been a couple of days. I don't work or have class this weekend, so he and I will be bonding." He shakes out a towel and folds it against his chest. "Hopefully." The most recent pack addition is the largest of them all, a white standard poodle with intelligent brown eyes. Possibly a mix, but he's already shown typical poodle behavior with his bounciness and quick bark. Still nameless, Jongin's still surprised that the dog responds to _hey_ and simple commands. The poodle understands what he's saying, which makes Jongin believe he'd been owned and trained. Without a collar, tattoo, or chip, though, there's just no way of knowing.

"Lemme know when he's ready for visitors. Jack Jack could use friends." Amber juggles her keys between her hands. "I'll lock up, okay? See you next week."

"Thanks. Good night." He hears Amber singing to herself as she checks the front door and heads to the side employee entrance. With a pile of freshly folded towels bumping against his chin, Jongin carries them to the storage room-slash-kennel holding for patients. He has to rearrange an entire shelf to make them all fit, and it looks about ready to burst when he's done, but he's too tired to care. They're the next person's problem.

He changes into his street clothes and tosses the borrowed scrubs into the laundry basket to be washed the next morning. Amber's already locked the side door; Jongin turns off the lights and yawns the moment the moonlight hits his face. His kids are probably going stir-crazy and chewing all of his shoes.

Two bus stops and a power nap later, Jongin unlocks his apartment door and is immediately unsettled by the silence. Living with nine dogs, he's well accustomed to the clatter of nails that need to be clipped, tags jingling as a neck is scratched, snuffing of curious snouts, and just general dog noise. Usually, he's greeted at the door.

But now, there's nothing.

"Hello?" He whistles and finally hears a soft _wuff_ , but no one comes to him. His trio of poodles usually attacks him at the door, demanding food and attention and explanations for why he left them yet again.

Maybe something happened.

It's rare, but sometimes his kids get too rowdy with one another, or someone thinks jumping onto the counter is a good idea and can't get down. Heart beating his ear drums, he power-walks to the kitchen to find all of his dogs sitting nicely in a semi-circle, all attention on the man rummaging through Jongin's cupboard. Jongin's pretty sure he doesn't know him, and this guy isn't wearing anything but a robe Jongin recognises from the back of his bathroom door.

So a few things pass through Jongin's mind, and he goes through a series of emotions and thinks of a few responses, but he ultimately ends up with the simplest:

" _Hey!_ "

The man jumps, whacking his hand on the cupboard door with a hissed curse, and disappears. Poof. All that's left is Jongin's robe and a group of howling, clamoring dogs.

"What the hell..." Jongin jumps when his robe starts moving, and his newest adoptee shakes his head free of the terrycloth with a huff. He looks at Jongin and immediately drops his gaze and ears and curly little tail, looking thoroughly miserable and sorry, although it shoots up again as Jongin falls to the floor in a dead faint.

No amount of whimpering or licking can wake him.

 

 

When he comes to, he's still flat on his back in his kitchen, and the microwave clock reads just a few minutes later. His robe is over him, which he doesn't remember, and his scrubs are under his head as a pillow. A few of his dogs lie around him sleeping or chewing on toys. They all get to their feet when he sits up, eagerly sniffing him all over and making sure he's alright before nosing at his hands to be pet.

The new dog sits somewhat apart, looking over his shoulder and back to the cabinets with wet eyes. Maybe Jongin imagined it all. Then again, why else would he be sleeping on his floor with a robe? He can sleep anywhere—it's a talent—but he doesn't think he was _that_ tired last night that he'd just pass out on his kitchen floor.

"Hey..." The dog flinches, head drooping lower but tail wagging slowly. "I didn't imaine that, right? You were a human?" He nods his head, and Jongin nearly faints again. "Can you...Can you change back? So we can talk?" The dog eyes the robe, looking shy. "Oh! Oh, right, here." He holds it out and turns his head. He doesn't hear anything or smell anything that could hint at the transformation, but the robe is taken from his hands with a soft _thank you_.

"You can look, now."

The strange man sits where the poodle had sat, hands pulling the borrowed robe down between his thighs. His hair is the same blond as the dog's, although not curly, and his eyes are the same dark brown Jongin had fallen for.

Jongin's head buzzes with questions. "Who are you?"

The dogs are comfortable with him, claiming his lap and nudging under his arms for attention as easily as they approach Jongin. "My name is Lee Taemin. I'm a...weredog."

"A were...dog..." A good friend of Jongin's is a were _cat_ , which he's known for a long time. Sehun's family was open about it from the start, and he spent more time as a boy than a cat but did eventually become comfortable enough to laze around as a cat with Jongin. Now, he likes to break into Jongin's apartment to terrorize pet cat-cat.

Taemin ducks his head a little, misreading Jongin's tone. "I'm a standard poodle, obviously," he adds, glancing at the miniature duo standing on Jongin's thighs. "And I am sorry for freaking you out." He plays with Lady the Aussie's folded ears. She happily leans into him. "We were all getting hungry, and I thought it'd be fine if I fed everyone, but then you got home..." He blinks a lot when nervous, Jongin notices. It makes him feel bad; he is freaked out, but it's understandable.

Taemin flinches when Jongin stands and scoots out of the way. The dogs are up as well and flock around Jongin's feet as he pulls down dishes and pours kibble. "Sorry, guys." He thinks he's forgiven when everyone digs in, but he won't be surprised if he finds a steaming pile of revenge when he wakes up tomorrow. "I can heat up leftovers," he says to Taemin, "if you're okay with that." As a little kid, Jongin tried dog kibble and was sorely disappointed and regretful that it didn't taste anything like the flavor suggested. It's incredibly dry and bland, but he doesn't have a dog's palate. He just met a couple of dogs that day that felt like eating socks and furniture would be a good idea.

"That sounds good; thank you. Can I help?"

"Just go sit. You don't have to stay on the floor." Jongin grabs his scrubs from the floor while the microwave whirs. He tosses them into his bedroom and closes the door; Taemin's sitting at the counter when he turns around. He's watching the microwave count down and scratching Pearl's neck beneath her collar. Jongin dumps the food into a couple of bowls and offers one with a pair of chopsticks to his guest.

Taemin eats like the other dogs, imitating a living vacuum. Jongin's not even halfway through his own meal when Taemin wipes his lips with the back of his hand and says, "Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

He drops his head but looks up at Jongin, a perfect imitation of his kids when they beg or think they're in trouble. "Will you let me stay? I don't have anywhere else right now. With you at class or work, though, the others get kinda lonely and antsy. I could take them out and keep them company. Feed them if you're gonna be late."

Jongin chews on the end of a chopstick. It is rather late to send him on his way, and it would be nice to have someone available for his kids. He's lived with him for a couple days, already, and nothing bad's happened. There's no real reason other than he's a stranger as a human—an unfamiliar weredog.

It's too late to make any long-term decisions. He was looking forward to the weekend to bond with the new dog, anyway; he can spend those days bonding with this weredog.

"For now, sure." They'll figure something out. "You're sleeping with the dogs, though." Jongin whistles. "Outside one more time; c'mon!" He stands up, looks to his right, and Taemin the poodle is shaking himself out of Jongin's robe and running to the door with the others.

He's happy as a dog, Jongin finds.

Jongin is used to waking up heavy and often uncomfortably hot. Living with a pack of dogs, and a cat, things are a little crowded, especially on a single bed. It's an even tighter fit with the addition of Taemin, who likes to spread out instead of curling up.

Jongin agrees to letting him stay and essentially dog-sit, spending the weekend lazing around his apartment with Taemin and his kids and making up guidelines for them all. Taemin listens attentively, ears up and forward; Ko Ko and Elle double-team Peter and wrestle until they're too exhausted to get off the floor. The other kids look interested every once in a while but prefer being pet to being talked to. Jongin assumes that Taemin will change to take the kids for walks and get them food.

It's ultimately not as weird as he thought it'd be. A bit more laundry, because Taemin wears his clothes, and some more dishes, but he's good company. The other dogs love him, and his personality doesn't change with his form. He's just as sweet as a person as he is a dog.

The greatest adjustment is getting used to Taemin as a man. He's a cuddly poodle and cuddly human; being a weredog puts him in a unique position of living with societal standards of canines and humans. Apparently, even his kids think human behavior is weird. Why can't people run around and share food and mark over each other's scent right away? Why not roll around together and take a nap in the same space?

In seemingly no time at all, Jongin is used being greeted with a hug at the door and spontaneous kisses. He's not as tired after Taemin wraps around his shoulders and nuzzles into his neck. The weredog is a living battery pack, recharging Jongin emotionally. Taemin isn't a pet or a child to Jongin, like the other kids are, but he's more than a friend after a really short time. He's okay with that.


End file.
